Chapter 210

Behind Neo Haven lies a world of crime and violence ruled by the underworld.

When describing the territory there, the scale occupied by the thriving Black Market was considerable.

Human revival has already been achieved long ago in terms of active population and technological aspects, and now the ‘good-natured competition’ activities of companies operating above ground have become mainstream. However, as a side effect, the underground world, filled with experts from sectors outside the corporate realm and various rogues, has grown significantly.

Untraceable illegal implants, some products with excessively high vendor royalties, and equipment that, in principle, is impossible to purchase without permits or certifications.

Or, they even take care of brokers who help procure all those things or technicians who assist with installations.

If there is something you desire or personnel needed, they play the role of intermediaries and take commission fees, sometimes leading the market through active referrals.

They also manage mercenary and engineer platforms, establish exclusive accounts for users, and engage in extensive reinvestments to protect customers and the market… So surprisingly, this group, which shows a solid side, became even more prominent in their expansion.

…It may be that the companies missed their timing to eradicate this due to the difficulty in capturing every single individual and the decent functionality that exists!

However, no matter how large the underground market is, if you were a plain, unremarkable resident of Neo Haven who had thoroughly turned against the megacorp, there were only three paths left to you.

First, confess and await the generous disposal like frozen meat hung on a hook.

Second, gather your remaining credits like a gambler, hire the most reliable professionals to escape the capital, and begin a life of discomfort and harshness outside the system.

Third, try to connect with the covert promotion of an anti-corporate group you have deliberately ignored in your life or a vague rumor you barely remember, and take the plunge.

Of course… even for a normal citizen, ending up in such a situation is not easy, and as it happens, the man busy working here. At that time, Léonard, a biological male and recognized engineer, had opted for the unconventional route.

That was to find a new job that utilized his expertise in the underground.

Thanks to having proven his excellent abilities multiple times, he quickly secured the position of security chief at the market, even with complicated personal circumstances and a meager background in the underworld, which must have been a somewhat pleasant miscalculation for him.

“…….”

However, the ‘feelings’ of Sir Léonard, who had undergone a large-scale mechanization procedure where his entire head, except for his brain, was replaced with high-output monitors, belonged to real-time parameters that were quite difficult to guess unless he intentionally disclosed them.

To put it in extreme terms, it was like a cat inside a box exposed to toxic substances?

It was incredibly easy to hide emotions and exude an intimidating presence, which might have been beneficial while working at Exatech, where numerous similarly modified humans gathered. Yet, in this underside society, it caused far more discomfort than expected.

Outside, not everyone underwent such high-risk, high-cost surgeries.

And it was even less common to carry a modified medical EEG detector within oneself.

Had it not been for the immediate need for parts maintenance and research funding, he would have personally opened a shop instead of taking the market management position….

“………C’est nul.”

Being treated as a loner was not a problem.

He was not particularly social to begin with; he had no interest in interactions beyond work or research.

“Oh, what? Is it already shift change?”

“Our chief is always punctual, which is nice. …But what does ‘c’est nul’ even mean?”

“Well… isn’t it something like ‘it’s over’ or ‘finished’? He says it sometimes.”

“…….”

However, one could wonder how twisted relationships with his direct staff had become.

Look, didn’t they just interpret his mumbled, ‘What a shit’ as some kind of mission shift code?

It’s still 2 minutes and 47 seconds until work hours are over, yet they casually start tidying up and glance toward the exit.

Today, should he grab one of them on the way home, implant a translation data chip in their head, and properly train them on the work guidelines presented from above?

Listening to the backbiting of those from other departments sounds much easier to deal with than the little misunderstandings and misinterpretations of his underlings.

“Why would a hunk of metal that doesn’t even have skin bother with clothing?”

“Honestly… isn’t it a physiological strain? Isn’t it chilling just being close?”

“Isn’t Exatech just a collection of crazy lunatics? I can understand part-mechanization, but how could anyone think leaving just the brain was a good idea?”

…Crack!

The fingertips touching each other created a chill-inducing scratching noise.

Due to the disrupted brainwaves, the opera mask slightly distorted and experienced severe quality degradation, but it was quickly restored before anyone noticed.

Ultimately, discrimination was nothing special.

It was merely a fear created by deep-rooted aversion and an understanding that fell outside of their grasp.

Artificial blood that connects the unique human nervous system and mechanical part, nano-bot colonies flowing through it, all sorts of special components—with so many differences that are incomparable to an expert’s eyes. Yet, their perception remained at the level of feeling uncomfortable with a droid that behaved exactly like a human.

A proud Exatech believer would surely scoff at it.

“Those with eyes just for decoration,” “If mechanization results in the erasure of personality, then you too must be the same,” “It’s not just a brain left behind; the brain and the central nervous system are pulsating inside.”

No matter how broadly you throw it out, there were plenty of counterarguments.

However, the issue here was that Léonard was a fugitive who had boldly blown up one of the factory branches of the top megacorp in the field of mechanical engineering due to personal reasons.

So he quietly swallowed his frustration.

Though he did not intend to ignore the many advantages he held, it was also ambiguous to explain that he was in this situation because he had actively chosen it.

“…Let’s wrap this up. Everyone update the newly renewed blacklist during work hours and leave together. Submit the dining expense for payment before the start of tomorrow’s work.”

“Yes!” “Sure thing!” “Oh my goodness, Chief….”

Thanks to the commendable attendance system, which guarantees daily early leave, completely refrains from intruding on personal lives, and allows self-organized gatherings, Sir Léonard, knowing whether or not his popularity was actually reflected in the compliments or gossip, immediately stood up after confirming there were no issues with the system.

The reason being that a hacker mercenary he personally hired had just messaged him, indicating they had arrived at the meeting spot.

He wanted to meet as soon as possible, check their skills, and evaluate the feasibility of the reclaiming operation.

He had already received responses from internal contacts still holding strings, indicating that the deadlines were indeed approaching rapidly.

But in this field, the absolute value was, of course, credits.

Even if he posted a reward that was nearly at the limit, due to Léonard’s current unfortunate financial situation as a researcher and engineer with numerous expenses, it was difficult to find someone who could satisfy both the required skill and his hefty demands by leveraging his status as the head of the Black Market… As expected, upon meeting the mercenary he had barely procured near the security room, he sincerely lamented his situation of having to listen to more bullshit.

“Damn it, so that’s why. Wanted a specialist in system disablement or control takeover, huh? A corporate bastard, huh? No, a full-on fugitive?”

“…I won’t deny that. No matter how much you are a ‘salaud avec une sale gueule’, mutual trust is fundamental.”

Muttering the term “son of a bitch” in French as the last act of courtesy, he answered curtly.

The man’s coat had dried food stains and grime sticking to it, which, in a sense, made it look like a badge of a shut-in hacker.

However, to Léonard—who possessed a pathological standard for hygiene and cleanliness—this was akin to living trash squirming in front of him.

Anyway, the struggle lay in this aspect. An overly prominent and characteristic appearance.

Anyone could instantly recognize that he was from Exatech unless they were genuinely strange individuals, leading to his identity being swiftly exposed.

Should his identity become known, it might not be the biggest trouble. Yet, generally, those who mistakenly thought they had claimed ‘respect’ from Léonard often crossed lines that were unforgivable.

Yeah, just like now.

“Well, damn…. So the target is Exatech? Who are you trying to fool with such pocket change……. Hey, tin man, fork over the advance and get lost.”

“…The attitude is hardly appropriate for accepting a commission; I have no idea how you reached that conclusion.”

“Damn frustrating…! If you don’t want to get reported to the headquarters, isn’t it basic logic to at least give a hush fee?!”

Since when did industry informal rules translate into official regulations? He secretly scoffed at such idiotic threats.

Was this individual devoid of basic courtesy, let alone a sense of crisis? They might as well be less than cockroaches… it seemed worthy of serious contemplation.

“Before we talk about such informal rules, the prohibition against disclosing information about the client is also a fundamental duty of mercenaries. Are you now audaciously stating that you’ll disregard that?”

“Wow, do you seriously only choose to say infuriating things on purpose? Sure, mercenary licenses might get suspended, but you can always get another one, but why do you act as if you have multiple lives…!”

As the man approached, finger pointing wildly, a spit flew from his mouth and landed on a corner of the monitor, causing the hydraulic device that was giving minute responses as well as the display panel’s movements to come to a sudden halt.

What’s going on? What if what he said was completely true? Could he really think he would suffer no consequences? Or did he firmly believe that he would never meet an end in any form within the market?

He had heard rumors that a service had been developed at Enema that completely overturned the concept of having an extra life during a research delay… but then again, he thought you needed someone to transfer your body.

While Léonard was deep in thought, the mercenary’s finger was closing in on his coat as if to poke it, and he soon made up his mind. This was an unusable defective product.

< i>Crackle—!!

“Gwaah?!”

Thinking the impurity had gone too far, he didn’t even have to lay a hand on this dazed mercenary.

After kicking up the knee he had stepped forward with, immediately breaking the joint, he naturally pressed down the head that had fallen near his waist into the alley floor to end it.

To avoid any possibility of blood or scalp getting on his shoes, he merely confirmed the tremor of bones succumbing to the impact and swiftly removed his foot.

Was there any need to care about cleaning up? Not at all.

Two market employees who sensed the meeting going awry burst out right away, diligently taking care of it on their own.

“Hmm…!!”

“Eh? Chief? Did you just kill him?”

“You fool! Check the chest. It’s still moving up and down, isn’t it? Hurry and find the wallet; we need to cut that connection!”

Thud! Smash!!

The sound of the pulled hatchet striking down, the sound of tearing flesh.

He sighed, ignoring the small allowances of the incineration plant staff he had pre-recruited, which would become fair witnesses verifying that the target had threatened the Black Market employees first.

Once again, finding a suitable candidate had completely failed, which meant another bust.

Even if the client was a fugitive log agent, he could overlook it.

Even if the location targeted was Exatech property, he wouldn’t back down.

With enough determination not to care about publicly displayed bounties or any additional rewards Exatech might present, satisfying all these conditions in a helper proved to be exceedingly arduous.

…Given this situation, he contemplated whether he should take the risk and conduct an offensive himself when a specific characteristic of someone he had given up on after receiving no news for months tickled his ear.

“Wow! This guy has tens of thousands just sitting in his wallet, not even a main account. With this, he could hold out at a casino for over four hours!”

“…Are you spending money on such things nowadays? Why would you go to a place structurally set up to lose like ants, for crying out loud?”

“Listen, that’s all old news. Didn’t you hear about that pitch-black girl with a caretaker robot who figured out whether it was a structural flaw or a sure win? She ended up being banned from every casino after robbing them! If only we could learn the rules before it gets too strict, we’d have a chance!”

“…….”

The description of a caretaker robot and someone referred to as a pitch-black girl.

The expression of not being a woman but a girl.

While it was a brief description, it felt premature to be confident about it… but if she had been busy completing corporate orders and was starting to act again after finishing the successful assignment, it truly felt like the perfect timing for him.

In a bloody state, while crouching and busy working, both of them noticed the shadow of the security chief looming over them and quickly straightened up to listen to his instructions.

“…Could you elaborate on the source of that story?”